Beyond the Pyramids: The Lost Ones
by Echos in my head
Summary: Long ago, the Desert was home to three cities, watched over by six immortals with the powers of the elements at their fingertips. When the end of the world is predicted, they chose six people to wield their powers and save the land. Six lost and broken people find each other, and with the help of a young girl and a stranger, make new discoveries and try to stop the impending doom.
1. Prologue

_Hello everyone. With 21/12/12 behind us, what better way to celebrate than by publishing a fic about people trying to prevent the end of the world?  
_

_So once again, I was hit violently in the head with inspiration's heavy iron golf club, and this was the result. I'm actually very happy with this idea, and have a few chapters already typed up. This takes place very far back in the past, before the Lost Desert was found or even lost in the first place. In other words, in the Desert. Even though it's in the past, keep your eyes peeled for some characters or sayings that you might recognise.  
_

_Special thanks to Popgum for helping me transform this from a hazy idea into an actual story with characters and more of a plot.  
_

* * *

Prologue: The Desert

"And you're sure about this?" Aquadelle asked again for the seventh time.

Obscurus sighed harshly. "_Yes_," he hissed, drawing out the 's' sound in order to illustrate his annoyance.

Lumina frowned at him, but didn't say anything. She knew her opposite well enough to know that he wouldn't respond nicely. Instead she repeated, yet again, what they all knew. "Yes. We saw it. There's no mistaking."

Pyron fingered the medallion around his neck. "I don't know how giving such powers up to be among the mortals will help."

"Well _obviously_ the reason will make itself known later," Obscurus said, annoyance dripping from his tone.

"Scur!" Lumina snapped. Obscurus just sneered and slid his ring from his thumb.

Flynnie followed suit with her diadem. "I think this is for the best. I mean, if it's ever needed, we can just destroy them, right?" She looked nervously at the others, hoping that she wouldn't be at the receiving end of a harsh correction.

Her opposite, Terragraw, understood this. "Yes and no," he answered carefully. Flynnie's moods were like the desert winds, changing every second. "We can't be seen by the mortals. They can't know that the power thought to be only wielded by the faeries can be too by neopets."

"It would have to be a swift, violent action, done under darkness," Aquadelle agreed, removing her clip from her hair. She glanced at Obscurus, who grunted and nodded reluctantly.

"So it's decided then," Pyron said firmly. "Everybody gather around for the ritual."

The six Elemental Immortals stood in a circle, girls on one side, boys on the other, and opposites across from each other. All of them coloured as if with a desert paintbrush.

The Lenny stepped forward first. He was tall, with sandy feathers that had a bright look about them. His long white robe reached the floor, and bright ginger feathers acting as hair stuck out in many directions atop his head. "Pyron, Master of Fire," he declared, removing his medallion. It was a chain, bright gold like a flame, with a heavy circle embossed with a fire symbol. As he held it up, the object shone, bright as a supernova, until it split and turned into two almost identical ones. Pyron put the brighter of the two back around his neck and held the other, the copy, out into the middle of the circle. As he muttered a few choice words under his breath, the medallion glowed an unearthly red. As the glow faded, the object returned to how it appeared before.

Next to him, a Hissi slithered forward, tan like sun-baked sand by the riverbed and strong in stature like a boulder. He was wearing a white robe similar to Pyron's, and a golden and blue headdress. Reaching over to his right arm, he removed a muddy-coloured bronze metal band from around his bicep. Despite its less impressive colour, it still glinted and shone like Pyron's medallion did. A leaf was carved into the metal, the final touch to make this object seem all the more impressive. "Terragraw, Master of Earth," he stated, his voice strong and even. As he did so, the armband divided into two, as Pyron's did before, taking on a bright green glow before fading.

To the left of him, a Lupe with slightly long, jet-black hair went to the centre of the circle. His fur was lighter than the hair on his head, a burnt orange, but he prided himself on the abnormality of it. He thought it better reflected what he represented. Perhaps that was why he had opted for a black robe instead of a white one like the rest of his companions. He was thin, and everything about him held a sneaky and childish air. "Obscurus, Master of Darkness," he said, his eyes flashing. He held out his object, a ring meant to be worn around the thumb; a simple metal band that didn't look like much, until one saw the stone inlaid in it. Round, small, and so black that it seemed like it sucked in the light around it before making it disappear forever. Not even sunlight reflected off of the stone. After it split, the copy glowed purple.

They had gotten halfway around their circle. Now it was the girls' turn.

The Xweetok across from Pyron took her place. She was poised, although small, with sandy fur and muddy brown hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean that bordered their desert on one side. She held her hair clip in front of her, a long silver clasp with wave patterns etched into it, where it shone just as brightly as Pyron and Terragraw's items. "Aquadelle, Master of Water," she said softly, and her clip, just like the others before it, transformed into two, the copy glowing blue for a moment.

An Eyrie, tall and elegant, with sandy feathers and a pale blue beak and eyes, was next to go. She moved quickly to the middle like a gust of wind, and held her diadem out. "Flynnie, Master of Air," she spoke quickly, letting her diadem, a bunch of tiny brass chinks linked together to form a strand on which a charm with the symbol of air that was meant to hang between the eyes, split and follow suit the objects before it. The copy shone in a pale grey light.

Finally, a Cybunny with peachy-coloured fur and long golden hair took her place. "Lumina, Master of Light," she announced, standing tall despite being the shortest of the bunch. In her hand, a platinum bracelet shone, perhaps even brighter than those before it. Every beam of light that touched it was magnified tenfold and reflected without abandon. A small imprint on the metal in the shape of the light symbol identified it as the accessory of an Elemental Immortal. It too split, and the copy shone yellow.

So at last, the rite was done. All the original objects returned to their owners, while the decoys lay, deceptively simple, in the middle of their circle.

"It just seems too easy," Aquadelle murmured, nervously pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Doubting us again, are we?" Obscurus said as rudely as he could.

The Xweetok glared at him. "You're such a child!"

"What do we do with the copies? Do we just... _give_ them to the mortal world?" Flynnie asked, completely ignoring the other two. Now that the ceremony was over, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

"Yes. When the time comes, they will be used," Lumina answered.

"But they're filled to the brim with elemental magic! They'll cause chaos!" Flynnie insisted.

"Which is why we will hide them," Pyron decided. "All across our desert, until they are needed."

"But won't it be troublesome for them to be found, once they are needed?" Terragraw asked.

"We will pick those suited most to find them," Lumina returned with a smile. "Wielders. Those with the right agility, strength and bravery needed to find them."

"You sound like some crazy psychic in a children's story," Obscurus pointed out with a grin.

"Way to ruin the moment," Aquadelle grumbled.

Flynnie laughed. "Wow, you managed to make Delle _that_ annoyed? Impressive."

Pyron let out a chuckle. "Even I can't manage that."

Aquadelle glared at the three of them. "Oh, shut up!"

Lumina put her arm around the usually-calm Xweetok. "It's okay. You're still my best friend, you know."

Aquadelle calmed down enough to manage a small smile. "For all time."

"Do we have any choice?" Terragraw asked. He meant it as a light joke, but they all felt a looming feeling of solemnity at the words.

Flynnie swallowed and put her hand out over the copied objects. "Forever," she said, spreading her fingers wide. The talons at the end glinted unnaturally.

Lumina put her smaller hand over Flynnie's, followed by Terragraw, Aquadelle, Obscurus and Pyron.

"Forever," they repeated, before each taking a copy and splitting up into six directions, disappearing under the cover of night, hidden from the eyes of the mortals that lived in the three young cities of their Desert. Bright, prosperous Sakhmet on one side of the river; bustling, active Qasala several kilometres past the bridge; and large, powerful Kariam, just beyond the pyramids.


	2. 1 Immortals

Chapter 1 – Immortals

Terragraw looked fondly down upon the cities. Over the past few hundred years, they had grown in size and population, and were now absolutely thriving. Although they weren't really supposed to, each Immortal had chosen a favorite city to guard and protect. He himself chose Kariam, as did Obscurus. Pyron and Aquadelle set their sights on Sakhmet, and Flynnie and Lumina found themselves drawn to Qasala, but the safety of all the cities was their priority.

Flynnie dropped out of nowhere and landed next to Terragraw. "Aww," she cooed. "Our little cities are all grown up now!"

Terragraw eyed her warily. "Flynn, these places aren't your children."

"I know," Flynnie replied airily. "Can't I have some fun now and again? Seriously Graw, you're bringing me down." The Eyrie sighed melodramatically.

"I suppose so. But being serious is just the way I am," Terragraw replied simply.

Flynnie nodded, taking another look down. "Hey, don't we have Group today?"

"We have Group every day, Flynn."

A huff. "Did we _already_ have Group today?"

"No."

"...Well?"

Terragraw looked back up at the seemingly irritated Eyrie.

"When is it?" she demanded.

"At the sun's peak," he answered, and Flynnie looked directly into the sun, eying it over as if it were a clock on the wall, with no indication of pain or impending blindness.

"We have time to spare," she decided.

"But it's almost at its peak now," Terragraw pointed out.

"And we can get to Group in two seconds flat."

"That's true." And they both looked back down.

"Have you been keeping an eye on your diadem?" Terragraw asked his opposite.

"Always. And your armband?"

"It's still safe."

"Why do you think they needed to be made? It's been three hundred years already."

"They should know, or they will know later. Ask them today."

Flynnie took 'they' as meaning Lumina and Obscurus.

"We should get going." Terragraw nudged her with a tough, strong finger. Flynnie looked back up at the sun and pushed the intruding finger away with one of her sharp talons. It was reaching its highest point in the sky.

"Okay then, let's go."

* * *

"Is everybody here?" Pyron asked.

"Well, let's do a headcount. There's six of us in general, and six of us here right now. I'm going with _yes_." Obscurus was being sarcastic, as usual.

Pyron ignored him, unlike Aquadelle who sent the Master of Darkness a frosty glare. "Welcome to Group, everyone. I hope you've all been watching over your objects."

A bunch of nods, including one very satisfied one from Obscurus. He'd been doing this for a while now, and the others chose to ignore him.

"Anything to say on the states of our cities?" Terragraw asked.

"Qasala's markets are doing well," Lumina remarked. "It might be the strongest city in commerce."

"Its prosperity is nothing compared to Sakhmet's," Aquadelle pointed out.

Obscurus scoffed. "Kariam is the best city."

Aquadelle rolled her eyes. "You just say that because of the Dark Royalty."

"And what does Sakhmet have? A band of street thieves and a king who can't tell an Ummagine from his left foot?"

A blast of water shot the offending Lupe in the face. Spluttering, he glared furiously at the giggling Xweetok who wasn't even attempting to mask her amusement.

Flynnie shook her head. "Honestly you two, fighting like children!" She tutted.

Pyron gave Flynnie a dry look. "Coming from you, Flynn, I can't tell if that's an accomplishment or not."

"Guys? We've gone off-topic agai-"

Pyron, Terragraw, Aquadelle and Flynnie all stopped and looked over nervously at Lumina, who had cut herself off in the middle of her sentence and was staring out into the distance.

"A vision?" Terragraw asked. Quickly, he turned to face Obscurus. Sure enough, Lumina's opposite had his eyes closed and was muttering under his breath.

"Quick! Join them!" Flynnie cried, reaching out and snatching Lumina's hand, tugging it over to Obscurus. Terragraw joined their hands, and four of the Elemental Immortals stood back and watched as the masters of Light and Darkness sat there, hands joined. Obscurus had stopped his muttering, and both of them were moving their eyes from side to side, up and down, in a rapid pace and in exact synchronisation.

"Do you think it has to do with the objects?" Aquadelle whispered.

"Maybe," Terragraw replied, keeping his eyes on the two.

There was an intense silence as Light and Darkness shared their vision, one needing the other to see. Now and then one would make a noise, a gasp or a grunt, until Lumina let out a cry and Obscurus let go of her hand quickly. Both were gasping for breath, eyes wild and even scared.

"It's here!" Obscurus cried. "It's here!"

"What's here?" Pyron asked sharply. Obscurus always put on a tough-guy act. Seeing him tremble in fear sent chills down the Lenny's spine.

"The end of the world," Lumina squeaked. Flynnie dropped to her knees, and Pyron had to help her up.

"The barriers are weakening." Obscurus looked frantically from one person to the other. "They won't hold out much longer. The elements will turn against themselves and us as well. Before long-"

"They'll destroy themselves and everything else," Aquadelle finished for him.

"Yeah." At any other time, Obscurus would have berated Aquadelle for interrupting him.

"So the Unstable will be let free?"

"I _said_ that the barriers are weakening!"

"This! This is why we did the ritual all those years ago!" Lumina spoke up. "We can't go against the Unstable ourselves. It'll eat us alive before we could do anything!"

"But only Elemental Magic can defeat the Unstable," Terragraw finished her thought. "So others will have to fix the problem, since we are unable."

"How long do we have?" Pyron demanded.

"I'm not sure," Lumina admitted. "But we'll know. We'll feel it coming as the barriers weaken."

"Then don't we have to choose Wielders?" Aquadelle asked.

"Looks like it, Delle."

"This is insane!" Flynnie screeched, ruffling up her feathers. "It's such short notice! They'll have no idea what to do, and we can't talk to mortals! They can never hear us!"

"That's why we must find the Power Child," Pyron interjected.

Flynnie's feathers fell flat. "The Power Child... of course. The only one young and pure enough to carry our message."

"First things first," Terragraw got them all back on track. "Shall we choose our Wielders?" His calm way of talking brought the frantic energy down. The others nodded and followed the Earth Master to their Desert model.

* * *

For a model of the Desert, the Elemental Immortals' was past compare. Small and easy to maneuver around, and yet exact down to the last little detail. The buildings showed the little cracks in their foundations, the roads were dotted with tiny footprints, and figurines of every living being in these cities were found at the right locations. The figurines moved of their own accord, showing where everyone was in the Desert and where they were going.

"Sakhmet first," Obscurus grunted, looking over to where Aquadelle and Pyron stood. In their current situation, neither of them took it as an insult.

Both of them studied the figurines moving about in the small-scale city of Sakhmet. Then, at the same time, they pointed at one spot and said, "There!"

Two figurines standing and moving next to each other glowed, one in red and one in blue.

Obscurus couldn't help but snort. "Of course you choose street urchins. All the better to get the rest of them out of trouble, right?"

Lumina nudged her opposite. "Wrong time, Scur."

But Aquadelle already took the bait. "Oh," she snapped, "and your pick will be any better? I can already guess who it- no, _he_ is."

"That's because I trust _him_ the most out of the people of Kariam," Obscurus replied coldly. "And what's with picking a boy, Delle? A nice one with lovely long hair for your clip?" He smirked as Aquadelle noticeably bristled in fury. "Let's have him lose some _more_ self-esteem! That's a _great_ idea!"

"Why you little-"

"ENOUGH!" Terragraw thundered. All fell silent.

Flynnie and Lumina glanced at each other and nodded, taking their place next to the miniature city of Qasala. It wasn't long before Flynnie found her Wielder close to the heart of the city. Lumina took more time searching for hers. She brightened and selected a figurine close to the outskirts, seeming very satisfied with her choice.

Terragraw and Obscurus made their selection from the citizens of Kariam. Obscurus chose immediately, earning a small sigh from Aquadelle, but everyone knew who he would select anyway.

Terragraw's eventual choice came as a bit of a surprise to everyone, though. After a little consideration from Obscurus, the Lupe deemed it as a "Great proximity".

"We have chosen," Pyron announced. "The rest is up to chance. For now, we look for the Power Child."

* * *

_Echo Note: I tried keeping this chapter a bit vague, so if you're confused at all, just know that you will figure things out as the story goes on._

_On another note, Happy New Year everyone.  
_


	3. 2 Sakhmet

Chapter 2 – Sakhmet

"RUN!"

Two pairs of feet stumbled and kicked up dust before settling into a speedy rhythm. Not too far off many others were giving chase. The runners, one boy and one girl, clasped their hands together, having found by experience that the shared adrenaline through contact helped them run faster. The Wocky held a cloth bundle filled with food in her left hand, food that wasn't legally _theirs_. Annoying bits of bright orange hair fell in her face as she ran. She jerked her head upwards, trying to get the intruding locks away from her eyes.

Her companion, a brown Usul, glanced backwards. The angry food-stand owners were still pursuing them, and it seemed that others had recognised the two from previous heists.

In short, the number of people chasing them was increasing rapidly.

The Usul growled angrily under his breath, eyes darting from side to side as he tried to keep his breath under control. He tugged the hand of his partner-in-crime, adjusting their running course a little more to the right.

The Wocky examined their new course. She glanced at him. _You sure about this?_

He smiled back. _Absolutely._

There was one road in Sakhmet that was always so full of people and stands and debris that it was almost impossible for anyone to navigate through. But these two youths weren't just anyone. As they pulled into the road, they immediately vanished in the crowd. Still gripping the other one's hand (though now it was to make sure they didn't get separated), they bobbed and weaved through the crowds, the Wocky hanging on tightly to their food bundle.

The shouts of the stand owners were getting fainter. The Wocky started laughing in relief. The Usul laughed too, until he got slammed in his side by a giant Elephante who was walking by.

"Oof!" He fell to his side.

"Ah!" The Wocky received the full force of the blow, stumbled, tripped and fell, dragging the other with her. A splintered piece of wood caught on to the fabric of her yellowed tunic, ripping one of the sleeves to reveal a mark in the shape of a Scarab on her arm. Noticing this, the Wocky snarled in frustration and pulled her companion up to his feet. As they began running again, she spoke to him in a hushed murmur. "They can see the symbol, Keem."

Keem glanced at her arm. There it was, as clear as day, the mark of a Desert Scarab, the band of street urchins that lived in Sakhmet, thieving off of merchants and living in a group.

"Come on then!" He tugged her along, running faster than before. They dodged more people, even climbing over stands and running on top of the awnings, jumping from stand to stand and avoiding yells from furious merchants.

"They look angry," the Wocky gasped. They were running out of breath and their muscles were screaming at them to stop and rest. Keem was hunched over slightly, feeling a stitch in his side. By now they were running on pure adrenaline.

They leaped down from one last awning, groaning in pain as they landed on their feet but forcing themselves to keep going.

"Almost there," Keem choked out. "Just a little..."

As soon as they got to an alley beside an old, dilapidated building, he pulled them both to the side and they collapsed next to each other. They gasped for air, desperately trying to quiet themselves when they heard the procession of angry thief-hunters pass by their hiding place. But they left, and soon the two young Scarabs were recovering.

The Wocky leaned against the wall of the building. Little bits of clay crumbled off the outer layer of the bricks and landed like dust on her brilliant orange hair. Throwing the food bundle at Keem, she shook it out of her hair, grumbling as she did so.

The Usul opened the bundle and inspected their cargo. He let out a grunt of appreciation. "Nice work, Ash. It all looks good."

Ash blinked. "Really? Even after that wipeout we had?"

Keem smiled. "Check it out yourself."

Ash snatched the bundle back, lifting out every bit of food and inspecting each one. Finding no bad damage, she grinned. "Well, such good work deserves compensation, don't you think?"

Normally Keem would deny this, saying that all the food needed to be taken back to the group for bartering. That's why Ash had to fight back her look of surprise when he answered, "Why not? Let's celebrate another success."

Ash looked at him blankly for a few seconds, still trying to get past her surprise. Keem was all about equality and following the rules of the Scarabs, even though Ash would point out that every Scarab would nick a bit of food from their "profits". She got over it quickly. _Hey, food is food._ "Anything in particular?" she asked aloud.

"Surprise me."

Ash threw him a Cheops Plant, laughing when it smacked him in the face. "S-Surprise!" she managed to say between laughs.

"It's not funny," Keem muttered, rubbing his forehead. "At least aim for my hands next time."

"Will do, Keemie."

"And cut that out."

"What? Calling you Keemie?" The Wocky smirked.

_She's having way too much fun with this. _"Yes."

"Would you prefer Princess?" She was sniggering again, and Keem had had enough.

He turned away from her, pointedly ignoring her as he ate his fill. It was the only tactic that worked with Ash. Whenever she angered him, he would ignore her. Eventually, her need for attention would give way first and she would apologise.

Keem was a bit sensitive about his rather feminine looks. Being a male Usul was bad enough as it was, but he just _had_ to be one that had hair that stuck out in every direction if if was cut short. So he grew it out and kept it tied back. With his long brown hair, frosty blue eyes and short stature, many had mistaken him for a girl before, and it annoyed him to no end.

Ash on the other hand was never mistaken for a boy, even though she acted like one and looked a bit like one too. She had cut her hair with her dagger a while ago, finding it too distracting, but failed to take into consideration how it would grow back in front of her eyes. These days, Ash was frequently moving hair out of her face and cursing under her breath as she ran through the streets. She was taller than Keem, and had a thicker build. She called it muscle, he called it a larger bone structure. He liked to say that her skull was particularly thick.

But Ash's face betrayed her gender. It was a pretty face, feminine and childish. Her eyes were wide and orange like her fur, little bits of bright hair fell around her head, she had a small, delicate nose and a wide grin that could turn smug at any time.

She wasn't grinning now. "Keem? C'mon, you know I was only joking."

Keem ignored her. _Only a matter of time before-_

"Keem? You're not doing that silent-treatment thing again, are you?" Ash huffed. "Just because that worked last time doesn't mean it'll work again!"

_You said that last time too._

"Keem, cut it out."

"..."

"Keeeeeeem!" she whined. "That's no fair!"

It was hard for Keem to keep from smiling.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! Geez!" Ash threw up her hands.

"Apology accepted."

"I hate you sometimes."

"Glad we're working together too, Ash."

Keem smiled a bit as he ate some more. This was a common occurrence that had practically become a routine.

Ash was brushing crumbs off of her tunic. "Done yet?"

Keem blinked. Try as he might, he could never get used to how quickly Ash ate. He didn't even know what she had picked for herself this time around. Devouring the rest of the fruit, he threw the leaves to one side and stood up.

"Back to base?"

"No, we're going to an underwater kingdom that was destroyed by a pirate's curse," Ash replied sarcastically, picking up her bundle.

Keem fought the urge to roll his eyes, a habit he had picked up from hanging around Ash for too long. _She has the strangest ideas sometimes. A city underwater cursed by pirates?_

* * *

The Desert Scarabs didn't have a specific hideout. Several liked to spend their nights in old abandoned houses while others preferred sleeping under the stars. They did have a base, where the thieves liked to share their spoils, keeping plenty for themselves but also finding some variety in the mix in what was essentially a black market.

It was an underground room, found by pulling up a trapdoor covered by a thick tarp in a back-alley that no civilian walked down anymore. Once you made your way down the dusty stone steps, you found yourself in a large room lit by lanterns hanging from the uneven walls by small, strong pieces of thread that caught on to the indents and bumps on the gritty stone. Several tables were spread about, covered over the top by stolen yards of cloth to keep the goods protected from the sand that shifted through the cracks above. People often worried about potential safety hazards like the ceiling falling in, but this had been their base for many years and would be for many more.

It was also the living quarters of the Leader of the Scarabs, a one-eyed Mynci called Bast. He kept to the underground room, listening to his street urchins complaints and offering advice, and taking several spoils for himself.

This was the place that Ash and Keem went to, filled to the edges with neopets shoving and bartering with each other. Ash would walk along with their bundle, pushing people out of their way while Keem apologised to some of the more respected figures for his friend's rudeness.

"See anything you want?" Ash asked Keem, looking sideways over one shoulder and roving her eyes the rest of the way.

"Not really. You go ahead." Keem wasn't in a bartering mood today.

Ash faced forward and gave a small shrug, knocking a nearby thief in the arm. Keem found himself apologising yet again while Ash started arguing with a trader over the price for a new tunic to replace her ripped one.

This was normally what happened; Ash would bargain her way into some of the greatest trades, and Keem would stand guard, keeping an eye out for Bast. Ash hated Bast with all her guts, though she never bothered to explain why. Eventually they would make it out of the stuffy, cramped room with food, clothing, or some little item that caught their fancy. They would hide out, eating, joking around and picking out a good place for their next heist. When the food ran out, the cycle would start again.

It was an exciting life, that was for sure, but neither was really happy with what they had. Ash was restless, always trying to talk to Keem but growing tired of his replies before ending with an exasperated "forget it!" and an angry sigh. Keem would endure listening to his only friend go on and on while thinking about how he would enjoy a simpler life, one that didn't mean fighting to survive. He also wished that Ash would stop making fun of his looks, calling him her "sister".

Once they had agreed that even though they were best friends, they couldn't stand each other sometimes. But they fought on, struggling to live their lives, looking at the tattoos on their arms and wishing for something new.

* * *

_Echo Note: A little character introduction to kick things off in Sakhmet. The next will be in Qasala, the third in Kariam, and then we'll meet up with the Immortals again._

_In unrelated news, today, the 16th of January, marks my second full year at FFnet. *little personal celebration*  
_

_Ash is silly. Seriously. I mean, an underwater kingdom? Destroyed by pirates? How ridiculous is that?  
_


	4. 3 Qasala

Chapter 3 – Qasala

A silent sigh sounded as dark grey eyes blinked open. She knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the morning. Talia yawned and groaned. She wasn't an early riser in the slightest, but when sleep alluded her...

The Shoyru sat up, closing her eyes as a wave of drowsiness attacked her. When it subsided, she pushed herself from the edge of the bed, standing on her toes for a brief second before walking quietly forward. She had always been light on her feet.

She grabbed a brush from her dresser and sat down in her seat. Slowly, still getting over the slowness that came from being tired, she drew the brush through her long violet hair. The more hair that got pulled out by the brush as the bristles parted knots and tangles, the more the girl felt somewhat satisfied.

_Good. Leave, and make me happy._

She set down the brush and sighed, a louder one this time. She tied her hair back with a white ribbon, even though she hated the frilly little accessories that her parents got for her.

She was the beautiful daughter. The one who was born a rare shade of purple that was easy on the eyes. The one with the long hair that felt like silk. The one with the dark, mysterious eyes. A lovely face, a pretty smile, a beautiful laugh.

The one that was meant to be seen. To be shown off. Not really a person. Not like Joy.

Talia envied Joy. While her sister wasn't remarkable in the looks department, she was confident, funny, charismatic and strong. Everything she wasn't. Her parents were very successful merchants who prided themselves on their two daughters. They showed Talia off to their friends, commenting on how stunning she was, but Joy was the obvious favorite. As much as Talia hated to admit it, her parents treated Joy as an equal while they treated her as a trophy. There was a reason why Joy was schooled more, why she had more friends, why she was good at making and selling goods. Her parents trusted Joy with their business once they retired. They didn't trust Talia with anything.

Talia hated being jealous of her sister, but she never asked for her looks. She never wanted to be admired from afar, but she was shy and often couldn't find her voice.

Talia felt mainly irritation for her family. She dreamed of running away, but where would she go? What would she do? She didn't know how to survive out there. She was never taught anything. Often times, Joy had to explain how the world worked to her, leaving Talia embarrassed and sometimes confused. Joy would laugh at how little her older sister knew, and even though Talia knew that the laugh wasn't meant with cruel intentions, it stung every time she heard it.

Sometimes she feared that she would never find her voice. Always seen but never heard.

What was the point? To be born beautiful, but to not enjoy it? To be handed everything on a silver platter, but never to live life like others did? What was the point of any of it?

Talia made her way over to her closet. Dress after gorgeous dress hung before her eyes, but she felt no satisfaction in looking at them. In truth, she hated dresses. It was just another way of showing off her beauty. Everything was just another accessory.

Sometimes she felt like an object. One of those dolls that she and Joy used to play dress-up with. Pale blue chiffon, a gold necklace, her favorite brown sandals that were starting to wear out. Who was she anyway? Was she even a person? Sometimes she wondered.

Opening her curtains wide, she stood on the opening of her window. Her mother would idly remind her to always close her curtains to keep sand from floating in her room, but Talia liked watching the shifts in the sand, the little golden grains floating and falling with the breezes.

And there were times like these when she just needed to escape.

Spreading her wings, Talia flew down from her window to the ground below, touching down as light as a feather. It was moments like these, when she was alone, when she was the most confident.

"Wow."

Even though it was just a whisper, Talia jumped, suppressing a shriek.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" It was an earnest voice, soft and sweet.

Out from the slightly shadowy surroundings stepped a red Ixi, about Talia's age, dressed simply in a clean shirt and a long white skirt.

As her parents unknowingly conditioned her to do, Talia immediately judged her appearance. She was pretty, Talia decided, in her own sort of way. Long crimson hair that went down to her waist in a simple braid, friendly blue eyes that were a bit bigger and rounder than what was common to see, short and small with a nervous little smile. Talia didn't like judging appearances in the way she did, but her parents would always point out her characteristics and compare them to some other girl's. Soon she was doing the same thing without thinking.

The Ixi spoke up again. "I was just taking a walk around the city, but then you flew down. I-I wasn't expecting it." She laughed easily, and it relieved some of the tension Talia was feeling.

"I'm Nalea." The Ixi extended an arm and held out her hand.

Talia, despite her nervousness around new people, shook it. "Talia."

Nalea smiled and looked out at the skyline. "I love waking up early," she said.

"I don't," Talia admitted a little awkwardly, and Nalea laughed again. Talia smiled. She liked being around this girl who laughed so easily. It made her feel comfortable around her. More than usual, anyhow.

"Sometimes I just wake up and take a walk. Like now. I guess I went further than usual. Am I close to the city's centre?"

Talia nodded.

"Wow, I really wandered this time! I live way back over there, near to the edge of the city," Nalea explained, pointing back in the direction that she came from.

"That's far," Talia said, before realising how stupid she probably sounded. She had a bad habit of saying things that were either already established or painfully obvious.

Nalea didn't seem to mind. "Yeah, but I wanted to see the sunrise. Sometimes I wake up too early, and it's an hour or two before it actually happens." She smiled again. "I guess I woke up too early again, huh? If I managed to go this far."

"I guess..."

"Look! Here it is!" Nalea pointed out past the tops of the houses around them at the skyline. At the horizon little streaks of orange were becoming more and more pronounced, colouring the sky in the hue. Talia found herself being drawn in to the sight of the sky being something other than blue or black. Orange slowly evolved into red, and pink, and purple, indigo, all the way to blue. The sky took on so many hues of colour that Talia only recognised in dyes and artificial things, but here it was, looking like a painter's palette with an absolute explosion of colour. There was gold, vermilion, rose, lavender... If Talia had known that this was what happened in the early hours of the morning, she would have woken up earlier a long time ago.

She found that she had stopped breathing, and let in a large gulp of air. Next to her she heard Nalea laughing happily.

"It's so beautiful."

They stood there in silence for a little while longer before the Ixi spoke up again. "I should be heading back. My parents will wonder where I am. But it was really nice meeting you Talia! Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

"I hope so," the Shoyru answered. And she did.

* * *

A few hours after Nalea left, Talia found herself in a usual place. Joy was hauling things to her parents' shop in the city, and Talia was standing back and watching her able sister do all of the heavy-lifting and selling to the customers.

"She's a hard worker, our Joy," her mother said proudly.

"And Talia's our beautiful little princess," her father cut in, putting an arm around the Shoyru, making her shrink down.

But there was something new this time. Talia thought of the sunrise that Nalea showed her. She thought of how the Ixi seemed awed by her appearance at first, but never mentioned it. She remembered how the only thing Nalea called beautiful was the cornucopia of light on the dawn sky. And suddenly Talia found a little bit of her voice.

"I am nothing compared to a sunrise."

Her parents looked at her strangely for a few seconds before her father laughed. Her mother just said, "I think you compare well, my dear."

Talia couldn't find anymore words. How could she describe that breathtaking sight to her parents? How could they understand? No person she ever saw could match the stunning array of rainbow lights she saw that morning with Nalea. People didn't look like sunrises. People didn't look like sands shifting in the breeze or like a starry sky.

People looked like people.

* * *

Nalea walked home, humming as she did so. Anyone who knew the girl always saw her in high spirits. She was the epitome of optimism, a beacon of hope, but like many others, she was unhappy.

Through all of the connections she made with others, all of the friendships and memories, she felt isolated. Set apart from the world instead of one of its many parts, and she had no idea why.

As she laughed and smiled and made everyone around her happy, there just always seemed to be a part of her that believed that she didn't have enough. That there was always something better. What it was, exactly, she had no idea. She figured that it was just a phase in her life, but it had been years and the feeling still hadn't subsided. She kept telling herself that others had worse problems, and she was just fine really, but it was painful to feel so lost and alone, even when surrounded by others.

Nalea passed by yet another nice-looking house and thought back to earlier in the morning. She had met Talia, a quiet and very pretty girl. They had watched the sunrise together, and even though Nalea hadn't fully explained what the sunrise meant to her, she sensed the other girl having a strong reaction to it. Although it was a positive reaction, it wasn't close to what Nalea felt when she saw it. Everyone got something different out of a sunrise.

She herself saw it as one of the things she could constantly be happy about, really and truly happy. Not the false happiness, the mask she put on. When she saw the sun go up and bathe the world in its rays, she felt like she was looking into the eyes of a better world, the world she felt she didn't have. The sunrise was a constant in her life, something she could always count on. No matter how bad she was feeling, no matter how terrible her day turned out to be, the sun always came up at the right hour, and it always would. Looking at the sun, she felt hope. Hope that she would, one day, find what she was looking for and shine through the rest of her life with a genuine smile.

Nalea would be happy to accept Talia as a friend, but she would still feel isolated. She knew this from the start. It didn't matter how many friends she made; that overwhelming _empty_ feeling stayed. She fought through it with a smile. Just because she hurt for a reason she wasn't even sure of didn't mean others had to because of her.

She was walking out of the central part of the city and reaching the outskirts where she lived. At the edge, far away, just like herself. She shook these thoughts away. A loving family waited for her at her house. They had long become accustomed to her morning strolls. They cared for her, provided for her, supported her in every way. She was happy with them, even if she was lonely.

But stopping at her front door for a second, the Ixi allowed herself a moment to let the smile disappear, for her eyes to water, to sniffle. She just didn't understand why she had to feel this way, when she had every reason not to.

Composing herself, she felt herself return to her cheery demeanour right before she opened the door and went inside.

* * *

_Echo Note: Here's the Qasala chapter, Kariam's on its way next._

_Reviews would be appreciated._


	5. 4 Kariam

Chapter 4 - Kariam

_Another day, another... something._ As usual, Rye had no idea what to compare the daily grind to. There really wasn't anything like it, and maybe that was a good thing.

Being a palace guard had its perks. He got to run around, stop crime, make friends that he could talk to now and again. But there were downsides. Like dealing with the Royalty.

Rye felt nothing short of pure relief and joy when he didn't see his name on the "Carer's List", be it for a day or, if he was lucky enough, the whole week. It wasn't that he disliked the Royalty, it was just that...

Okay, he disliked the Royalty. But he wasn't the only one. Practically none of the palace guards liked those three, but there was always a need for bodyguarding when the King, Queen or Prince left the palace, and those three could be insufferable if they wanted to. The King stuck up his nose at any of them, and always commented in a _very loud_ whisper about how 'the palace is hiring just about anyone these days'. The Prince was a bratty young Scorchio that seemed to think it was fun to set fire to just about anything, and laughed as the guards frantically put it out. Whenever the kid burned himself, he ran wailing to his parents, and you can guess who got the blame for it.

As for the Queen... To be honest, the exclusively-male guard wasn't sure what she was talking about half of the time. It wasn't just the words she used, it was the way she talked in a strange accent as well as having a high-pitched and squeaky voice.

Bryan once said that he had gotten a headache from sitting next to her once.

But today was a good day. Just normal guard duty for him. Not a big deal since Kariam was, for the most part, crime-free.

The door to the dungeons swung open and Rye got an earful of two extraordinarily familiar voices.

"C'mon Bry, it's not that bad!" the female voice urged.

"Hannie, this is the third time you tried to rob that vendor." That was the voice of Bryan, one of his friends in the guard.

"So the guy decided I was gonna steal something, but I didn't! Wasn't even thinking of it! The thought didn't even begin to attempt to form-"

"Be quiet."

The all-too-familiar sight of the orange Kougra guard leading the blue Ixi thief into a dungeon made the corners of Rye's mouth twitch upwards just a little bit. The Ixi looked over at him and flashed him a grin.

"What's up, Rye?"

He returned the grin. "Just another day at the guard."

Hannie snorted as Bryan locked her in her cell. "You can say that again."

Bryan rubbed his temples a little bit before talking to the thief. "So how long before you escape this time?"

Hannie brought a hand up to her chin and appeared to be in deep concentration. "I'll give it three hours."

Rye laughed. "No point in delaying the inevitable, huh?"

Hannie grinned. "You know it!"

_Mostly_ crime-free.

But this was Hannie, one of the few thieves that actually resided in Kariam. Word was that she was a Scarab back in the day, but she moved to Kariam to 'pursue better options'. That being said, she was caught – mostly by Bryan – on a by-weekly basis, and escaped within two days. Bryan had long since stopped trying to restrain her any further than a locked cell, and Rye was sure that Hannie didn't run away nearly as fast as she could when Bryan was on patrol.

He mentioned this once. Hannie called it a _strictly professional_ relationship.

Bryan walked away from the cell and sat down on a stool next to Rye. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his sweaty ginger hair.

"I need a break before I go back out there," he muttered. "Pass me some water?"

Rye slipped out the door and made his way to the nearest well for water. Cranking the handle down and then up, the bucket filled to the brim and was lifted back up and into Rye's hands. It was heavy, but nothing the tall blue Techo couldn't handle.

Back in the dungeons, Bryan looked worn out. Rye handed him the bucket, and the Kougra took big gulps from it without so much as a thanks.

_Serves you right for always chasing the girls,_ Rye thought. Then he shoved the thought away. He constantly had sarcastic or demeaning thoughts, but he never said them aloud. In the way he saw it, there wasn't much point. He was more of a listener than a talker, and that suited him just fine. He could probably tell you any number of things about the other guards, but none of them could tell you anything about Rye. He knew others, listened to what they had to say and almost never forgot. Their words were set in stone.

"Thanks," Bryan finally choked out, gasping from the massive intake of water and coughing slightly.

Hannie whistled from her cell. "Wow, I'm _that_ hard to catch?"

"But I caught you," Bryan reminded her, recovering quickly and wiping his mouth to get rid of the excess moisture. "Several times."

Hannie grinned. "You just love seeing my face, admit it."

"Yes, those iron bars are a nice touch. You should wear them more often," Bryan retorted, dropping the bucket to the side.

"...Is that a _challenge?_"

"Yeah. See if you can stay in a dungeon cell for longer than a week. Then I'll be impressed."

Rye smiled. _Get a room, you two._

Hannie paused and considered this. "Challenge accepted."

Bryan jerked violently and fell off his stool. Ignoring Hannie and Rye's hysterical laughter, he asked, "Really? You'll stay in the cell and not leave for over a week?"

"Eight days at the most," Hannie said, still giggling like a maniac.

Bryan slapped a hand to his forehead, eyes wide. "I can't believe this... All I had to do was _ask_ and you would stay put?"

Hannie shrugged. "Depends. These cells are boring with no one to talk to. Can I count on some company?"

Bryan scowled. "Sorry, but I think visiting hours are over. Come on, Rye."

Hannie grinned again and did a little wave. "Bye-bye, Rye and Bry."

Rye chuckled as Bryan stormed off.

* * *

The next day was one of _those_ days. Bodyguarding time. Rye knew that his sarcastic thoughts would be all over the place. Sighing, he picked up his helmet, slung it over his head and shuffled slowly to the door. He opened it a crack and froze. Someone was outside.

"Rye, am I correct?" a wavering voice asked, and Rye drew the door open all the way.

Right outside stood an aged Ogrin in a long black robe, sporting a long silvery beard. His sightless eyes stared blankly ahead, but he carried an aura of knowledge and sensory ability. It was said that he was blind from birth. Rye immediately knew who he was.

"Y-Yes, it's me. Did-did you need me for something, High Advisor?" he stuttered, awed.

The Ogrin smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, young one."

Rye was uncertain. Did this mean that he was exempted from his bodyguarding duties? He wanted to ask, but he didn't want to show disrespect. He chose his words carefully. "Does it have to do with the Royalty, sir? I was just on my way."

"You could say that," the High Advisor said. He held out a hand and beckoned the young guard forward, his hand just a few inches away from Rye's stomach. "Come with me."

Rye didn't even bother wondering how the High Advisor managed to walk through the palace without his sight. He _was_ the High Advisor after all, one of the few people who knew all of the secrets of the place. He knew rumour from truth, what was real and what were lies. He was trusted with everything, so what did he want with Rye?

He stopped suddenly in the middle of a corridor, holding out an arm to stop Rye from bumping into him. With his other hand he pointed at a painting on the wall. "Rye, do you know what this is?"

Rye pushed the thought of _"A painting?"_ away. Instead he focused on the three dark figures sitting in the picture. A chill ran through him.

There was a tall Kougra in a blood red cape sitting in the back. His shoulders were broad and his face was cold and dangerous. In front of him sat two other people. The woman was a Kyrii with long grey hair and a deep purple cape, smiling sinisterly. She was sitting with her chair facing the right. On the other chair, facing left, was a Gelert with short black hair and a navy blue cape, staring blankly ahead. A King, Queen and Prince. All coloured like the shadows.

Rye swallowed. "The Dark Royalty."

The Dark Royalty was one of Kariam's most popular urban myths. From the first rulers of Kariam all the way to now, there had always been one King, one Queen, and one Prince. When the Prince came to power, he would marry a foreign princess or a noblewoman of his choosing, and every time without fail they would have one son, and the cycle repeated itself. Always a King, Queen and Prince. No one could ever explain why.

And then there came rumours from a palace guard years and years ago that he saw the Royalty conversing with three dark counterparts. Then there were reports of more sightings, even though several of these turned out to be fake anyway.

Paintings were made, but many thought they were fakes. Just artistic representations of a popular myth. People chose whether to believe or not in the Dark Royalty, but the rumours kept multiplying. Some said that the Dark Royalty were immortal and that they were bonded to the Main Royalty's souls, and that was why there was always a King, Queen and Prince. Others said that the Main Royalty did nothing and that the Dark Royalty made all of the important decisions while the Main Royalty were just the faces shown to the public. No one knew whether they really existed or not. So why was the High Advisor showing the painting to Rye?

"Exactly. Now come with me." And with that the blind Ogrin set off again.

Rye followed him through countless twists and turns in the passages, which he was certain the he would get lost in even with his sight. But the Ogrin kept going until the reached a part of the palace that Rye had never been to.

Throwing caution and manners to the wind, Rye decided to open up and ask, "What's going on?"

"My boy, you have been selected to be the newest Guardian."

"I-I'm honoured," Rye stammered, "but... What's a Guardian?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Rye didn't speak again after that. He just followed the ancient man through all the twists and turns of the passageways. The atmosphere quickly became darker, and Rye assumed that they were reaching the middle of the palace, the only place that was out of reach of the natural sunlight from the outside. Sure enough, he saw lit torches scattered haphazardly throughout the next few corridors, as if someone had tried to light the ways but didn't care if the job was done evenly or not.

The Ogrin stopped right before a black wooden door. "Here we are," he announced, fumbling his hand across the smooth surface before tugging on the door handle. Grunting, he tugged it open and made his way inside. Rye followed.

Immediately he was caught and blindfolded. A hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his cry of surprise. The Ogrin's voice sounded close by, "I apologise, but this is for your protection and the protection of others as well."

Rye forced himself to relax. He was a rational boy, and he knew that the High Advisor meant him no harm. He froze, however, when he heard footsteps.

"This is Rye," the High Advisor said. "He was the one you requested."

"He looks tense," a soft female voice remarked. "I guess that's to be expected."

"It happens every time," another voice sighed, male this time.

Some footsteps approached Rye, stopped in front of him and then circled around him. "I don't know why I bother with this anymore," a deep voice mentioned. "There's no real sign of a good Guardian. I suppose this one could work."

"Rye," the other male voice reminded.

The footsteps paused and then walked away. Rye fought the tension in his shoulders and jaw, and suddenly he was released. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry, but decided against speaking.

"Rye, this is an important decision," the Ogrin told him. "If you agree to become the newest Guardian, there's a few things that need to be taken care of. If you refuse, we must wipe your memory of all that has happened."

Rye blinked a few more times and the world came into focus. In front of him was the High Advisor, standing to one side, and behind him was a masked person in a guard uniform. But what drew his eyes were the three standing together, all the same shadowy dark grey. Rye felt his knees weaken considerably, and the masked guard led him to a chair. He collapsed immediately.

"Rye, please say hello to the Dark King Faizan and the Dark Queen Phaedra," the High Advisor announced.

The notorious shadow Kougra and Kyrii stepped forward, their dark capes flowing like water behind them. "Hello," Rye managed to say without stuttering or whispering.

The Dark King almost smiled at that. "You see?" he said in the deep voice Rye heard earlier. "Some are better at remaining calm than others."

"Indeed," the Dark Queen agreed, nodding at the Rye. "That's a good quality to have in a Guardian."

"Excuse me," the last shadow said to his parents and the High Advisor. "I think I can take everything from here."

Rye watched in wonder at how effortlessly the boy dismissed all of the others of such high rank and status, standing back in the darkness and watching as they left. Once the two of them were alone, he approached the stunned palace guard.

The painting, Rye thought, didn't capture the full power the Dark Prince seemed to emit so easily. Up close Rye could see more of his features, like the neat black hair, the narrow eyes, the skinny but strong build. Under the blue cape was simple black clothing, nothing fancy, but the boy kept an aura of majesty about him.

"I am the Dark Prince. Do you know why you're here?"

Rye shook his head. "I don't know what a Guardian is, so I guess not."

"To put it simply, I will be your new charge," he explained. "Will you take the position?"

"A charge?" Rye asked incredulously. "But you can't be that much younger than me!"

"I'm not," the Dark Prince said, sweeping back his cape and sitting down across from Rye. "Actually, I might even be older than you. But I still need a Guardian, according to the High Advisor. Someone to make sure I don't do anything stupid."

"You don't normally do stupid things, do you?" Rye asked warily.

"Not usually, but I have my days just like everyone else," he answered. "So? Yes or no? If you say yes, please drink this." He pulled a vial of blue liquid out of the lining of his cape and set in on the little table by the armrest of Rye's chair. "Drink it to keep the secret safe. If you say no, drink this one-" he placed another vial of red liquid next to the other one "-erase your memories of this meeting, of me and my parents, and then we'll try to find another candidate."

"And what about my guard duties, if I agree?" Rye wanted to know.

"The same as usual, but instead of caring for the Main Royalty, you'll be led back here."

There was a plus to the situation. But how did the Dark Prince compare to all three Main Royals? Rye decided to test it. "You have a name, right?"

The Dark Prince looked at him blankly. "Yes."

"Aren't you going to tell it to me?"

"No."

_At least he's honest..._ "Why not? I was told the Dark King and Queen's names, so why not yours?"

"They aren't important. If you become my Guardian, you won't be seeing much of them. You won't be seeing much of them if you refuse either." A hint of a smirk showed on his face.

"Okay," Rye said slowly. "But why won't you tell me yours?"

"You give away your name so easily, but do you understand its importance? Names," he explained, "are existence. Without a name, you do not exist. Everything has a name, even if it's just called a 'thing'. If I tell you my name, that means I trust you with my existence."

_This kid's got problems,_ came the first thought. Rye translated it into: _He's got a different way of thinking than I do. He's going to be difficult, but can he really be worse than the Main Royalty?_

The Dark Prince looked at him expectantly. _Why was I chosen?_ The vials on the table. _Did they already try other people? Could it really be all that bad?_

On an impulse, Rye made his decision and picked up the vial of blue liquid. The Dark Prince made no reaction as Rye tipped the contents into his mouth. The potion tasted like water, and didn't appear to have any effects. Rye wondered if he was missing something, or if he was given the wrong vial.

"Here," the Dark Prince said suddenly, handing something out to Rye. "Since you've accepted, you might need this."

It was a thick leather band that was to be wrapped around one's wrist. At the top, covered in glass, was a little circle with a little blue arrow pointing at the Dark Prince. Rye took it hesitantly and fastened it around his forearm.

"It's called a compass," the Dark Prince explained. "It'll lead you right to me, which comes in handy since none of the Guardians know where this part of the palace is in the beginning."

Rye looked at it again. He shifted his arm to the right, but the arrow turned and fixed on the Dark Prince. He moved it again with the same result.

"Let's give it a test."

In the next second, the Dark Prince had vanished. Rye jumped up from his seat and looked all around, but saw nothing. He jerked his arm up to his face and saw the arrow pointing to a nearby staircase. Without hesitation, Rye ran up the flight of stairs.

_"You don't normally do stupid things, do you?"_

"_Not usually, but I have my days just like everyone else."_

_Please don't let this be one of those days,_ Rye pleaded internally.

Up the stairs, then across a hallway, all the way to a door. Rye knocked and entered only to be met by the Gelert sitting on an ornate chair in a dark room.

"So it works?" he asked.

_Apparently... _"Yes."

"Welcome to my quarters, then." The Dark Prince stood up, nudged the chair to one side, and crossed the room, which was decorated lavishly but all in dark colours. The strange youth stopped in front of Rye and looked him full in the face. Even though Rye had to be some centimetres taller, the self-proclaimed Dark Prince did intimidate him.

"Interesting," the Gelert muttered.

"What?"

"Your eyes. They're brown. Don't see that much nowadays."

Rye stood there nonplussed. Why was this guy looking at his eyes anyway?

The Dark Prince seemed to sense this and he answered the question. "They say the eyes are the window to the soul," he said, looking Rye in the eyes again. "Helps you read a person. Let's see... Strong and loyal, those are evident. But a bit of boredom there. And is that _sarcasm_ I see?"

Rye took a few steps backward. He had sarcastic thoughts all the time, but he never once said them aloud. In fact, if you asked anyone, they would say that 'Rye' and 'sarcastic' didn't even belong in the same sentence, unless it was to deny any correlation between the two. But the Dark Prince had pulled this out after a few minutes of knowing him, and just by looking at his eyes.

"Am I right?" A wicked grin was spreading across the Gelert's face.

"Uh..."

"Shall I go on? There's also restlessness. That comes with boredom, I guess. Being my Guardian should mix things up a bit for you. Not much ambition, so I guess you should be content with your new position. Very mellow. Not one for fighting, not if it's not needed, and-"

"Stop. Just... just stop." Rye turned around and shook his head. He thought back to the times when he thought dealing with the Main Royalty was bad. Now he had to look out for _this_ guy? Maybe he should have chosen the red vial...

"I'm right." Such a confident statement, definitely with a superior undertone, but somehow not too arrogant. Footsteps walked back into the room.

Rye looked reluctantly back at his new charge. The Gelert, the mysterious Dark Prince, was sitting back on his chair and looking at the doorway to his room. His eyes shifted to Rye, and the guard felt himself freeze in something akin to horror.

The Dark Prince's eyes were yellow, a pale yellow that looked like dried up sand crusting in the sun. They were absolutely blank, even if he did still have that evil-looking smirk. They looked dead.

_The eyes are a window to the soul, huh? Do you even have one?_

"You have no idea," the Dark Prince told him, leaving Rye wondering if the rumour about the Dark Royalty being mind-readers was also true after all.

* * *

_Echo Note: If you can't tell what I was doing with Hannie, Bryan, and the blind Ogrin advisor, then I suggest going back and re-reading this chapter. Or re-read some Neopets plots. Or open your eyes._

_So, it appears a new plot may be on its way in Tyrannia. And, of course, it has the convenient timing of appearing just as I'm about to leave the country. Oh well. I expect a lot of updates (and hopefully some parodies) when I get back._

_Please review._


	6. 5 Immortals

Chapter 5 – Immortals

"Things are moving along smoothly," Lumina told Terragraw one sunny day not too long after the vision. "Destiny is working its course now that we've selected."

"They've all met?"

"Not yet, but they're grouping within their cities. It shouldn't be too long now before they find each other."

Pyron, who had given up on trying to stop the newest argument between Aquadelle and Obscurus – which Flynnie somehow managed to drag herself into as well – joined their conversation. "I've been meaning to ask you, Lumina, if they really need to all group together. Wouldn't everything be done faster if they all searched for their own object by themselves instead of running back and forth across the Desert?"

"Moving around like that will take time," Lumina admitted, "but we all know that the Desert is filled with trials and traps. In a bigger group they will be safer. Besides-" a small smile "-the elements are most powerful when they're in a group."

"Or they destroy the peace," Pyron muttered with a glance at the three other Immortals, who had moved past simple arguments and were having a three-way fistfight and wrestling match. With a collective sigh, Fire, Earth and Light pulled their respective opposites away from each other.

"What's this fight about anyway?" Pyron hollered, holding back an extremely agitated Aquadelle who looked like she wanted to lunge at Obscurus's neck and throttle him.

"Does it even matter anymore?" Obscurus spat, wrenching his arm away from Lumina's grip. "We never get along anyway. It's better to fight now then later when everything's ending!" The Lupe stalked away with his hands still balled into fists.

"Let me scratch him just this once," Flynnie pleaded, trying to drag Terragraw in Obscurus's direction.

"No," Terragraw refused, and he planted himself firmly on the ground while Flynnie whined. "Why were you involved in the first place, Flynn?"

"Yeah. Normally those two are at each others' throats, but you're almost never a part of it," Pyron agreed, keeping his hold on Aquadelle.

Flynnie huffed. "Well, I found the Power Child, so I went to tell-"

"YOU WHAT?" the other four exclaimed in unison, and from his point far away Obscurus turned around and looked back.

"I went to tell you all, but Delle and Scur were yelling again, so I tried to get their attention and they just kept fighting and I tried to break them up and they ganged up on me-" Flynnie paused in her run-on sentence to take a breath "- I mean, whose side are you guys on anyways? And they kept going and going and wouldn't shut up so I said that I'd claw their tongues out if they didn't stop and listen to me and we all started fighting-"

"You found the Power Child?" Pyron interrupted in disbelief. Obscurus, who had decided to see what all the fuss was about, was now within earshot. He stopped in his tracks and gaped when he heard the news.

Flynnie glared at Pyron. "I said so, didn't I?"

Terragraw let the Eyrie go. She walked a few feet away from him, ruffling her feathers in annoyance.

"Where is he?" Lumina asked.

"_She_ is close to our cities," Flynnie replied coldly. "She's a wanderer, you know."

Aquadelle's eyes widened. "You mean she's all alone?"

Flynnie's demeanour went from irritated to sad in a matter of seconds. "Yes. It's sad to see her like that, alone in the Desert. She's so young, too."

"And how are you sure that she's the one?" Obscurus demanded.

Flynnie's eyes went cold. "She saw me," she shot back.

Panic swept the others. "You showed yourself to her?!" Aquadelle cried in alarm.

Flynnie looked at the others in exasperation. "No! In a dream!" Everyone calmed down. "Holy Fyora, what do you guys take me for, an idiot?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?" Obscurus asked dryly.

Flynnie demonstrated an incredible amount of self-control and ignored the Lupe. "Since the Power Child is the only one who can see us in their sleep, I came to her in a dream, like we're supposed to. She saw me and talked to me. She's the one, I know it."

"What are we waiting for? Take us to her!" Pyron demanded eagerly.

Flynnie scowled and crossed her arms defiantly. "What, no 'thank you'?"

"Flynn, you are awesome beyond belief, and you found one of the key people to save Neopia from the end of the world. Thank you so, so much. Please take us to her?" Lumina wheedled. "Please?"

Flynnie sighed in annoyance. "You're so lucky you're my friends," she grumbled, but then she smiled in a sort of exasperated yet affectionate way. "Come on."

The Elemental Immortals sped off, faster than the mortal eye could behold, following in a cluster behind Flynnie who darted to the front with her wings spread out wide. Swooping down from the sky, they raced past the river, causing little disturbances in the water and in the sands.

Finally, the Eyrie stopped and landed on one of the dunes, her keen eyes scoping out her surroundings, as no person should set their eyes on the Immortals. Sensing no one, Flynnie beckoned the others to her side. Standing in a group, Lumina and Obscurus used their powers of Light and Darkness to manipulate their elements around them, shielding them all from view. Under the covers of shadows, or with light shining through them instead of off of them, Flynnie once again took the lead, walking briskly toward a small shelter.

It was a tiny shack, rickety and unstable. If a sandstorm should have occurred, there would have been no hope for it, but for the time being it seemed to work for protection from the chilly nights in the Desert. But the main selling point was its proximity to an oasis, with a small pool of water that seemed drinkable enough.

"She lives here?" Aquadelle whispered, feeling a strong pang of pity for the child.

"For now," Flynnie answered, eyes still fixed straight ahead.

A crack in the door allowed the Immortals to peek through, one by one. As each took a look at the little girl, they relaxed, suddenly certain that this was indeed the Power Child.

"What's her name?" Lumina asked.

"Ayra."

They all quieted down, taking second and third looks inside where the girl was living alone.

"You know," Terragraw said suddenly, "there's going to be a Trade soon, and she lives very close to this one's meeting point."

The other Immortals realised what he was getting at. About four times a year, once for each season, the three cities of the Desert would meet up outside their territories to display and market their goods to the others. It was an opportunity to get items manufactured only in another city to bring back home. It was also a time for the rulers of each place to discuss future plans between them, such as a festival or new trade options. It was a grand occasion for merchants of each city. It would also be a brilliant meeting spot for the Wielders and the Power Child, and it seemed as though that would be how things would work out.

"Tonight when she's asleep, I'll give her the message," Flynnie whispered.

The others nodded, preparing to leave, when something unusual happened. A small pained feeling, like a burn, shocked every one of them, appearing suddenly in their toes. Lumina and Obscurus lost control, and for a few seconds their protection by shadow and light from mortal sight was lost, before being regained just as suddenly.

They all looked at each other in horror. "I knew the Unstable was getting stronger," Pyron whispered, "but I didn't think it was happening this quickly!"

"Just wait until the Trade," Aquadelle reminded him. "It was just a little thing. Barely lasted a few seconds. Just wait until the Trade, then we can worry about ourselves."

"You mean about how we'll be eaten alive and destroy each other?" Obscurus snarled, still panicked himself.

"Don't start," Lumina warned the two of them. "I swear, you both are always at war with each other."

"Our Wielders should be the best of friends, huh?" Obscurus said dryly.

Aquadelle shook her head. "If that happens, I'm eating sand for a week."

Obscurus glanced at her. "Is that a bet?"

Flynnie groaned. Pyron said, "Please don't."

Aquadelle faced the Lupe. "Fine. But if I'm right and they hate each other, I get to dunk your head in the river for as long as I like."

Flynnie giggled at the idea, but a fierce glare from Pyron shut her up. Terragraw rubbed his temples in irritation.

Obscurus looked like he was considering it. "When you say 'as long as you like', you mean just once for as long as you want, right?"

Aquadelle didn't blink an eyelid. "Once a day, for that week that I _won't_ be eating sand."

"Guys, please stop," Lumina pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Now that's not fair," Obscurus mockingly chastised, waving a finger. "Unless I was there to make sure you eat the sand when you lose."

Aquadelle raised an eyebrow. "What, you want to _feed_ me? Isn't that low even for you?"

Before Obscurus could retort, Lumina had grabbed him and dragged him away from Aquadelle, who in turn was dragged away by Pyron. Flynnie watched them go with amusement, while Terragraw still seemed annoyed.

"You can go," Flynnie told him. "Go and make sure they don't all kill each other. I'll wait here."

Terragraw looked at his opposite. "Maybe if neither of them are right, and their Wielders don't like or dislike each other, we can say that we won the bet and they have to ignore each other for that week. Give us some peace."

Flynnie clamped a hand over her mouth and laughed, knocking the Hissi on his back. "Nice one Graw," she chortled. "You do that."


	7. 6 Sakhmet

Chapter 6: Sakhmet

As usual, Keem woke up first. As usual, Ash didn't crack open an eyelid at the noise he made when he prepared food for himself. That was routine. Ash rarely woke up more than an hour earlier than noon, and being Ash, she wouldn't appreciate any food prepared by Keem. _Gosh Keem,_ she'd say, _I can take care of myself!_

Keem chewed his food slowly as he looked out upon Sakhmet. A beautiful city, he thought. One of a kind. Even if he and Ash camped out at a new location every night, and even if the hectic schedule they had was getting tedious, Sakhmet was always a gem to look at.

Ash let out a loud snore. "Shut up," Keem deadpanned, and the sleeping Wocky turned on her side, grumbling.

They had been lucky the other evening, finding an empty hut to claim for the night. It was the first time in a long time that Keem had been able to sleep on a bed, and he wasn't really eager to lose that luxury yet, seeing as he sat on it to peek out the window and watch the world go by. Children played in the dirt, people set up for another day bartering, rich families walked close together and everything looked so normal.

Keem looked at these people and was reminded of how recently Princess Neera had gone against her father's wishes and married a peasant, only to be kicked out of the palace soon after. Were any of the people outside actually the princess and her husband? Keem remembered how she looked a bit. She was a pink Ixi, that much he was sure of. He grimaced when he remembered Ash's comment on how Keem was apparently 'prettier' than Neera.

He scanned all of the people passing, but he didn't see any pink fur. He shrugged, even though no one was watching him. He finished his food, making sure that there was no waste, and went into another room in the hut. Another reason why he was grateful that Ash slept in every morning was that she couldn't tease him when he prepared for the day.

A small bucket of water was already prepared for him in a corner, neatly tucked away, with another one for Ash, should she ever need it that morning. If not, then it meant a little more to drink for the both of them. Keem glanced backwards, making sure that the door was closed tightly, and dragged his bucket to himself. Reaching back, he untied his messy hair and shook it out, trying to rid his scalp of some of the grains of sand that stuck there.

He looked at the smooth surface of the water in the bucket, frowning at his reflection. No wonder Ash called him a girl all the time. He just looked so _feminine_. Why?

He had a sudden strange vision of himself as a girl, or maybe just a girl that looked a lot like himself, exploring pirate caves for treasure and sliding across ice and fighting snow beasts.

Keem shook his head quickly, glancing back at the water and feeling relieved when he saw himself looking normal – or at least as normal as he could look. The idea was strange. He had never been outside of the Desert – in fact, he didn't know anyone who had – so what was all that brown rock? And that white stuff? Who was that girl? Why did he suddenly space out like that?

Sighing at his probable heat-induced craziness, he wet his fingers in the water, drawing little soothing patterns and threading his fingers through his hair, making it neater and less dirty before tying it up again. He splashed some of the lukewarm water on his face, getting rid of any extra grit or grime and feeling refreshed. He took a few handfuls to drink, hydrating his dry throat and rejuvenating his body.

There was a sudden slam on the door. "Hey princess," Ash's grumpy voice snapped, "done in there yet?"

Keem bristled at the 'princess' comment, before deciding that if Ash was _really_ that tired, he'd help her wake up a little. "Look who decided to get up this morning," he called back, picking up his bucket and hurrying to the door. It creaked open, held back by an orange palm. As soon as Keem saw his partner-in-crime's bleary eyes, he didn't hesitate before throwing the rest of the water in his bucket in her face.

Ash blinked in shock for all of two seconds as Keem threw his bucket to the side and slipped past her. Right after, he heard footsteps slamming after him and Ash growling, "KEEM! YOU'RE SO DEAD!"

* * *

Keem wasn't dead, but he did regret what he did. But not much. Actually, he didn't regret it at all, but he did regret getting cornered by Ash and socked in the stomach for his actions.

But that's what happened when he decided to act on impulse around Ash. Groaning and holding his midsection, he decided that no, getting a tired and grumpy Ash wet and angry was not a good idea, and that he should avoid it in the future. But it was funny.

The Wocky was still muttering under her breath, wiping stray drops from her face and hair and shaking her head violently to get rid of any more. Her hair stood up in all directions, slicked into shape by the water. Keem let out a weak laugh, seeing her like that. Ash glared at him and brushed her hair with her fingers.

Just another day.

It continued like any other day. Keem recovered, Ash dried off, they packed up their things and they left the house to find shelter for the next night. Sakhmet was a large city, so they had plenty of choices to go to.

"I was thinking the eastern part of the city," Keem said, sticking close to Ash in the shadowier parts of the street.

"Didn't we stay there a few nights ago?"

"Not the north-eastern part. The eastern-eastern part."

"The place with the crazy guy who tries to sell everyone pieces of string?"

"No, now you're thinking of the south-eastern part. C'mon Ash, you know what I'm talking about."

Ash glared at her companion before her eyes clouded in thought. She lifted up a finger and drew an imaginary map in the air, mouthing words as she wrote down important locations. Then her eyebrows shot up.

"You mean by the palace?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

Ash grinned from ear to ear. "That'd be so awesome! What if we snuck into the palace? Think of what we could get-"

"That's not the best idea."

"But Keem!" Ash whined. "Imagine!"

"I'm imagining us getting caught by a lot of angry palace guards," Keem replied dryly.

Ash pouted. "You're no fun."

"Maybe later, when we're better prepared. We can't just run into this with no real idea of what we're doing."

Ash just continued pouting without saying anything. Keem knew that she wouldn't want to admit that he had a point.

"But," he said, trying to steer the conversation in another direction, "imagine the places we could stay at around the palace! The people who live in that area must be loaded."

Ash kept looking obstinately in front of her, but Keem knew she was listening.

"Not to mention we could get some valuables from them as well."

"Maybe a cake, we haven't had that for ages!"

Keem smiled. Ash's stomach and greed won her over. Just another day.

* * *

Valuables and luxury weren't the only reason why Keem wanted to stay by the palace; it was also the morning's revelation of Princess Neera being among the people. His curiosity was peaked, and much like Ash's need for attention or for food, Keem needed to satisfy it. The way he saw it, the ex-princess would stay around her old home, begging to be let back inside, asking her father to help her and her husband.

The two street urchins found themselves settled in one of the properties settled around the palace. These were normally reserved for important advisors or palace guards, but it seemed like there was an important meeting that day, seeing that most of the places were vacant. But hey, they weren't complaining.

Keem remembered how he thought it was a luxury to just sleep in a bed. Now they were hiding out in a big house with beautiful furnishings everywhere. The chairs were cushioned, the curtains were thick and heavy and a lot more useful when it came to keeping the sand out of the place, and there was even a personal well outside. Water would be far from a problem during their stay.

Ash flopped down on one of the chairs, grinning in delight as she ran a finger across the soft surface of the cushion. "Can't we just stay here?"

"I don't think the real owner would like that," Keem reminded her.

Ash rolled her eyes. "He can go out and steal for a living. Let someone else live his life for once."

"If only, huh?"

"Yeah. If only." Ash gave a harsh sigh. Just another day.

* * *

In order to appease Ash's foul mood from their previous conversation, Keem suggested that they hang about the palace for future heist reference. He worded it like that, but Ash knew what he meant.

_Let's scope out the place and plan our attack._

So they did. They kept hidden from the guards, looking around the sides and noting certain windows that looked easy to get to.

It was around one of these windows where Keem told Ash to stop and be quiet.

"They're talking," he whispered, turning one of his large ears toward the window. Ash immediately fell silent. She had a gut feeling that they would be saying something important, or – even better – something beneficial to them.

But Keem just frowned. "The Trade's coming up soon," he said. "So much for that."

"Wait... the Trade? You mean the place where the three cities meet up and sell stuff?"

Keem nodded slowly.

Ash grinned. "That's perfect! Think of what we could get there! We'll have so much cool stuff, and we'll never have to sleep outside ever again!"

Keem filled in the blanks in Ash's train of thought. She did have a point. All the exotic merchandise from the other cities would definitely sell for a good amount of neopoints.

Ash leaned against the wall of the palace, the sleeve of her new tunic scrunching between her shoulder and the stone. She smirked. "So?" she asked.

"I'm in."

Ash pushed herself back upright and clapped her hands together softly. "Excellent!" she hissed, the fire building up in her orange eyes. Once that fire appeared, it took a lot to take it away.

Maybe it wasn't just another day. Maybe things were looking up after all.

* * *

_Echo Note: Seems like Keem has a little connection with Hannah the Brave..._

_Feedback is appreciated._


	8. 7 Qasala

Chapter 7 – Qasala

Nalea had come to a conclusion: whatever she was looking for, the people or things or places that make everything seem better, was not at home. Her isolated feeling didn't come from her family, but all the same, she was sure that if she left, that if she took her life into her own hands, that she could finally find happiness.

Her family was sad, but they let her go willingly. She was at that age after all, when life on its own seemed appealing. They understood that she was looking for something, and they were happy to give her that chance. Nalea gave a big smile at all the support she was getting and hugged everyone goodbye, packing up a few important things and promising to visit.

She was hardly at the front door when she was hugged from behind by her giant older brother Cal. She squirmed, trying to get out of his grasp. "Cal! Let go!"

The Yurble just let out a halfhearted growl. "Even my little sis is leaving before me."

Nalea stopped struggling. "Cal," she said sadly.

He let go and spun her around, putting one hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. I just think you're lucky. I might not ever leave this place. Just go out there and be happy, okay?"

Nalea looked at her older brother for a moment and smiled, giving him a hug. "Okay."

"And visit too."

"Okay."

"Promise?" He sounded like how they did when they were children, and Nalea felt a wave of nostalgia going against what she was setting out to do.

"Promise," she whispered. She let go of Cal put out her hand. Her brother grinned and shook it.

* * *

With a sack draped over one shoulder, Nalea made her way through the city. She wasn't sure where she was headed, but she knew that she wanted to try to go out of Qasala's boundaries. Maybe a drastic change in scenery would help her.

The buildings around her grew larger and more extravagant. She was passing through the middle of the city, the quickest way to the border of their land and to the other cities that were in the area. Nalea imagined saying goodbye to each and every building. _Goodbye... Goodbye... See you soon... I'll visit, I promise..._

"Hey!"

Nalea jumped a little, emitting a loud squeak. She scrambled for her sack which had almost escaped her grip and looked about, embarrassed.

"Up here!"

Nalea looked up and saw a face looking down from one of the windows of the house she had just gave a mental goodbye to. A very familiar face... She squinted in the noon sunlight. "Talia? Is that you?"

The Shoyru leaped down from her perch, spreading her wings to soften her landing, kicking up bursts of sand that flung itself in all directions. Nalea raised an arm to shield her eyes and held her breath until the onslaught of sand subsided.

She lowered her arm and looked at the other girl. For a moment, they both just stood there, looking at each other, before Talia gave an awkward, "Hey."

"Hello." Another silence.

"It's a little late for a sunrise."

"I'm not here for the sunrise."

Talia tilted her head to the side and looked at her sack. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I've... I've left home. I'm going to go around, see places, meet some people," Nalea explained, not really sure how to explain her situation to the other girl.

Talia's mouth twitched a little, her eyes flitting from side to side. Right as Nalea was going to ask her if she was feeling okay, Talia blurted out, "Can I go with you?"

Nalea blinked in surprise. "E-Excuse me?" she stuttered. "Y-You want to come with me?"

Talia's eyes darkened and her whole demeanour changed into one of unfiltered sadness and fury. "I can't stay here," she said harshly. "My parents don't care, my sister thinks I'm useless, and I'm sick of being treated like I'm just a thing!"

"A thing?"

"Yeah! You know, an object or something!" Talia's voice was growing stronger. "I just can't take it anymore! So can I go with you? Please? We can sell some of my stuff for money."

"But what about your friends?" Nalea asked.

"What friends?" Talia asked hollowly, sounding so broken and alone that Nalea dropped her sack and hugged the other girl close.

"_My_ friend," she said. "Let's go and have some adventures outside of Qasala, okay?"

"That sounds nice," Talia said quietly, having reverted back to her usual quiet state of being.

* * *

Neither of them spared details of exactly why they were leaving to the other after Talia had gone to her room and collected the most expensive things she had to bring back with them to sell. They had their own stories that they felt still belonged mostly to them, as much as they considered the other a friend. Nalea never mentioned her sense of isolation, instead opting to keep up the cheerful, optimistic mask that she had. Talia didn't go into detail about how Joy excelled at everything, and how her parents made her up like a doll each and every day. They had a vague idea of what the other was going through, but neither was ready to really open up just yet.

They trudged away from the prosperous middle of the city, heading toward the gates that led out.

"There's a Trade coming up," Talia mentioned. She had had to deal with her parents rushing about and preparing for it for the past few days.

"We could get some supplies there and sell some things," Nalea added on. Talia nodded, and things went silent again.

They were feeling awkward around each other. It seemed rash, suddenly, for them both to strike up their arrangement on such short notice with no idea where they were going. Frankly, they didn't know much about each other anyway. All they were really sure of was they they had come together through their mutual need to escape.

"So... Have you ever left the city before?"

"No."

"Me neither."

Silence.

"What do you think's out there?"

"...Sand?"

Another silence.

"Is that bag heavy?"

"Not really."

By Fyora, this was awkward.

It was such a relief to get to the city's entrance and break the tense air between them. In front of the gates was a plaza jam-packed with merchants fighting to get out to the meeting point for the Trade. People pushed and shoved and even bit one another, literally fighting tooth and nail to get a good spot to set up and advertise their goods. In front of them, right at the gates, guards were checking people's names on a large scroll that identified them as merchants or as people invited to the Trade.

The girls froze in their tracks. "You didn't say we'd have to identify ourselves!" Nalea whispered urgently.

"I didn't know that! I never went to a Trade before! It was always..."

Nalea gave her companion a curious look as Talia's voice trailed off. The Shoyru looked uncomfortable, then shook her head. "Never mind," she grumbled, obviously in a bad mood.

Nalea decided to leave her alone for the moment and to focus on the problem before them. They were the daughter of a rich merchant and a girl from the outskirts of the city, the 'undesirable' part. Talia might have been able to get through with her status, but more likely than not she would be questioned on the whereabouts of her parents and sister. Nalea would be turned away immediately. How would they get through?

* * *

Bored. He was so, so bored. And could anyone blame him? He was nine years old and trapped inside!

"I hate my father sometimes," the boy grumbled, swinging his legs back and forth off the edge of the old chair that everyone said was too big for him. His father was very strict, especially since his mother died several years ago.

Sometimes he thought his father might be evil. It wasn't because of the strictness, exactly. It was more of the way his father locked himself in the study. When the child passed by, he heard maniacal laughter and saw puffs of coloured smoke filter out from beneath the door.

He mentioned this once. The servant shifted her eyes and told him to play outside.

...Actually, now that he thought about it, playing outside sounded like a pretty good idea.

Sure, there was the Trade coming up, but that just meant that his father would be really busy...

It was better than sitting in a chair doing nothing...

His father did punish him if he thought his son was being lazy...

He could get in trouble...

Nah.

Leaping up, the young Prince Jazan raced from the room and slipped through a few doors and hallways before escaping via a window.

* * *

"Now how do we get through?" Nalea mused, tapping a finger against her cheekbone. She and Talia had opted to sit on the ground in front of the plaza to avoid the frenzy, and to get a plan of action. So far, however, nothing was really working out.

Flying was out of the question, since Talia wasn't strong enough to carry all of their things and Nalea at the same time. Nalea couldn't pass for Joy, since Joy had been to several Trades in the past and was very recognisable.

Nalea sighed and flicked a bit of her crimson fringe out of her eyes. She turned her head to the side, stretching out her back and neck, and that's when she saw him.

"Talia!" she exclaimed frantically, motioning to the little figure dangling from a palace window.

Talia gasped, but found that she couldn't move. Nalea tried calling for help, but the noise that the crowd was making drowned out any sounds she made. Meanwhile, the figure was desperately clawing its way back up, with no avail.

He was slipping lower and lower. One hand couldn't hold on anymore and slipped off of the sill. The other didn't look like it would last for much longer...

* * *

How could he have forgotten that he was on the fifth floor? _How?_

Now look at him. Prince Jazan was hanging by his fingers over a giant drop that would undoubtedly lead to his death. He was terrified. Despite his efforts, he couldn't get back up onto the sill. His arms started trembling in strain and in fear. He didn't want to die! Not yet!

One of his hands slipped from the sill, and Jazan felt his stomach drop into his guts. He felt sick, weak and scared. His other hand couldn't hold on for much longer.

All at once, there was nothing. Nothing but air. The ground came closer and closer, and Jazan felt like he was going to be sick.

Then something purple caught him two floors above the ground.

* * *

Nalea stared in shock. Never in her life had she seen someone move so fast or so suddenly as Talia just had. One minute she was sitting next to her, tense in shock and helpless. Then, it seemed, she was a flash of purple, catching the figure before it fell too far.

Nalea ran over to her as she landed a bit more roughly than usual, leaving their things behind. Talia was clutching a young orange Kyrii that had his eyes wide.

"Is he okay?" Nalea asked immediately as Talia gently put him down.

"I... think so." Talia looked nervously at the young boy who looked frozen in shock. He blinked, opened and closed his mouth a few times, then clung on to Talia like his life still depended on it.

Talia looked at the child blankly, unsure of what to do. She made a sideways glance at Nalea, silently pleading for help.

Nalea walked cautiously over to the child and put a soothing hand on his shoulder. The boy tensed, but eventually relaxed. However, he still refused to let go of Talia.

"It's okay now," Nalea murmured gently. "You're safe now."

Suddenly, the boy let go of Talia and sputtered indignantly. "I know!" he growled. "I was just... surprised."

Talia looked at him, retaining the blank look. "You fell out of a building, and you were just surprised? That's all?"

The boy glared angrily at the ground. "Didn't need your help."

"Didn't need her help? She saved your _life!_ You ought to be grateful!" Nalea exclaimed, put off by the child's behavior.

He just kept looking at the ground. A quiet mumble was heard.

"What was that?"

"Don't tell my father, please."

"I don't know your father," Talia pointed out, inwardly berating herself for pointing out the dreadfully obvious. _Again_.

The boy looked at her incredulously. "Well you should! He's King Razul!"

"WHAT?!" the girls cried together.

"Yeah. I'm the prince. Prince Jazan."

The girls exchanged glances. "You just saved the prince of Qasala," Nalea said quietly.

Talia, out of nowhere, got an idea. Although she felt that her timing was incredibly bad, she blurted out, "Jazan, do you think you can help us get out of the city?"

Of course, Nalea sent her a horrified look, and Jazan sent her one of contempt, and Talia felt like punching herself in the face. She _really_ needed to get a filter for her thoughts...

And then Jazan said, "It's _Prince_ Jazan!" and he started to look thoughtful. "I mean, since you did save me, I guess I could help you out..."

Talia silently thanked her lucky stars that the situation wasn't the complete and utter failure she had thought it was. Even Nalea looked relieved.

"Thank you... Prince Jazan."

The young Kyrii made a small smile and ran off. "C'mon! This way!" Talia sped off after him, leaving Nalea behind.

"Wait! What about our bags? Talia! Prince Jazan! Urgh, WAIT A MINUTE!"

* * *

Prince Jazan returned to the palace without any qualms. As he paced his room, he stopped by his window looking out onto the Desert, where Talia and Nalea were undoubtedly finding their way to whichever destination they were headed. He felt a pang of envy and gratitude when thinking of those girls. He wished that he had that sort of freedom to escape the city, or even the palace where his father kept him locked away from the outside. He often wondered why his father was they way he was, or what he was planning.

He couldn't think of any answers. All he could really come up with in the end was that he thought that long purple hair was really pretty.

* * *

_Echo Note: That last sentence..._

_And that was little Prince Jazan's appearance in this story. Given the LDP timeline, that would put this story a little over two hundred years before Qasala reappeared. Brucey B probably found the Lost Desert fairly recently (by that I mean within 10 to 20 years), so I guess that establishes the temporal aspect of this story..._

_Feedback would be awesome._


	9. 8 Kariam

Chapter 8 – Kariam

"Rye, man, you don't look so good."

Rye had been getting comments such as these all week since he had been appointed Guardian of the Dark Prince. It wasn't hard work, but being around the strange young man had shot his nerves and he hadn't been getting much sleep. There was just something about the youth that made his blood chill. Maybe it was the dead eyes, or the cruel smirk, or the fact that the boy seemed to be made of pure darkness. Or maybe it was the fact that Rye was now carrying one of the biggest secrets Kariam had to offer.

It put a lot on his mind, that was for sure, and now he was paying the price. He had managed to keep the secret to himself so far, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to redirect the inquiries of the other members of the guard.

"Tough few nights," he replied tiredly to whoever had addressed him. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the wood of the table, losing himself from the world as exhaustion overcame him.

_Why is it that I can only sleep when I need to be awake?_

"Rye?" It was Bryan.

"Mm?"

"What's been going on? You weren't put on the Carer's List for the past week, and guard duty is never bad enough to get anyone worn out like this. Not to mention you always disappear during the day and no one knows where you go." A small tremor of fear overtook Rye. _Why do you have to be so smart, Bry?_

"Just... personal stuff," Rye dismissed the question.

But of course, Bryan was having none of that. "Rye, I mean it, what's going on?"

Rye struggled to think of something to say, any lie to appease Bryan and get him off of his case, but he came up blank. That is, until he began talking out of his own accord.

"If you _really_ want to know, there's been rumours of people planning on sabotaging the Trade that's coming up soon. The High Advisor said that he needed some people to eavesdrop here and there on the suspected areas. It's supposed to stay a secret to keep everyone from panicking-" Here, Rye shot Bryan a bit of a dry glance, "-but I'm not the only one involved. It's taking up all of my nights and I have to report during the daytime."

Bryan blinked a little in surprise before a slightly guilty look overcame him. "Oh." He cleared his throat and fidgeted with his sword's sheath – a habit of his when he was uncomfortable, Bryan noticed. "Sorry about bothering you like that."

"It's fine," Rye said casually, although he was terrified on the inside, and for a good reason.

He hadn't created that lie. Not a word of it. He hadn't even been aware that there was a Trade coming up, but apparently there was. No, it seemed that for that instant there, he had been possessed by something – something that created a brilliant lie out of nothing and gave him the right tone of voice and gestures to follow it all up.

Trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart from the horrifying thought of being taken over by someone or something else, Rye changed the topic. "How's Hannie holding up?"

"Believe it or not, she's still in her cell," Bryan scoffed. "Keeps giving me these..." Bryan struggled to find the right word. "_Superior_ looks when I check to see if she's still there."

_Among other things... _"She is stubborn, you have to give her that."

"That's one word for it. Any idea when break is over?"

Rye looked over at the sundial outside. "Not long." He stretched slowly and stood up, stumbling a bit at the sudden rush of blood leaving his head. "I had better get going."

Bryan stood up next to him. "Same here. I guess I'll see you around then."

"Yeah, see you."

* * *

Rye found the Dark Prince where he usually was, lounging in one of his chairs in his room, cheek propped against his fist as his other hand held a book open. "I presume the potion works?" he asked as Rye entered, not looking up from his page.

"Potion?"

"The one I gave you when you agreed to look after me."

_Oh right, the blue stuff._ "What does it do, exactly?"

The Dark Prince licked the tips of two of his fingers for better grip on the paper before flicking over to the next page. "Keeps you from spilling the secret."

A sudden realisation. "You mean like making up lies for you?"

"For some. I've heard that it kills you if you're too close to giving it away."

Rye felt chills. _What did I get myself into?_

"You became my Guardian," the Dark Prince replied, still staring at his book and giving Rye more evidence that he was, in fact, a mind-reader.

Rye sighed – he'd been doing that a lot more often lately – and sat in another chair, watching the Dark Prince read. It was tedious and boring, as the most exciting thing to happen was the turning of a page.

_Is this it? This is what I'm going to be doing from now on? Sit back and watch some urban myth read a book every day and try not to fall asleep?_

The Gelert didn't reply to this, although it was a perfect opening for a snappy comeback that he seemed to be full of. Then again, Rye didn't know what he was going to do most of the time. The Dark Prince was an unpredictable guy.

_**SNAP**_

Rye jumped as the Dark Prince closed his book loudly and suddenly. Unpredictably. "I have an idea," he announced, standing up and striding over to his bookshelf, sliding the large tome into an empty space.

_This can't be good..._ "What is it?" Rye asked cautiously.

"Let's go outside."

The Techo blinked, confused and surprised. "But... you can't."

"Oh, I can," the Dark Prince answered with a self-assured smirk and an arrogant shrug of the shoulders. "I just can't get caught. You can imagine how bad that would be."

Actually, Rye still wasn't sure why the Dark Royalty was kept a secret, but upon hearing that the potion he had consumed could kill him, he wasn't willing to take any chances. He stood up and walked over to the other boy, trying to use his height to intimidate the other and gain the upper hand. "You aren't going out."

The Dark Prince kept his evil-looking smirk in place. "Oh, but I am. And you're coming with me. After all, you need to make sure I don't so anything stupid, remember?"

Rye faltered under the dead yellow stare and felt annoyance at how despite the fact that he was taller than his charge, the other acted tall and used that to his advantage just as Rye used his height. Rye hated the fact that the Dark Prince had such authority over him even though he was under his care.

"You shouldn't. You're pretty recognisable, after all," he said, still trying to dissuade his charge.

"That's easy enough to overcome," the other returned, taking a few steps back and unfastening his cape. Rye furrowed his brows – _Isn't that making you more obvious?_ – but watched silently as the Dark Prince did what he set out to do.

One the navy material was unfastened from his shoulders, he flipped it inside out. From the lining at the neck, he unfolded a hood, and from the sides hung two sleeves. At once Rye saw the subtle genius that was the cape. From one side, it looked a bit bulky and was draped artistically, like a royal's cape should be. But on the other side, it was a hooded cloak.

Rye watched in light fascination as the Dark Prince slid his arms into the sleeves – oversized sleeves, Rye noted – and pulled the hood over his head. The material draped over his shoulders covered a good amount of his body and hid the dark clothing for the most part. He looked suspicious, certainly, but more stealthy and criminal than a misbehaving royal. The dark blue blended in with his surroundings, making him part of the shadows and offering protection from prying eyes. If anyone were to look their way, they would see a palace guard leading a criminal away.

"Brilliant, isn't it? Such a simple and useful thing," the Dark Prince said, sounding almost awed himself. "So, are we going?"

"We really shouldn't-"

"We should. I'm sure you know of the Trade coming up?"

_Whether I wanted to or not... _"Yes. Why?"

The Dark Prince lifted a hand to stroke his chin. "I should like to see one. I've always heard of them, but I've never gone. I'm sure you're in the same position as me for this one."

"I am," Rye admitted. "But I don't think that it's a good idea."

"Oh?" The Dark Prince quirked an eyebrow. "Would you rather I escape in the night?"

_No. _Rye shifted uncomfortably where he stood. It seemed that no matter what happened, his charge would leave the palace. As his Guardian, Rye had to know when he was beaten and the best way to go about things. Since the youth was insistent about leaving, it would be best if Rye left along with him to make sure he stayed out of trouble.

"Wait until nightfall," Rye replied reluctantly, conceding defeat. The Dark Prince's smirk grew into a bone-chilling grin, and Rye swore he saw a flash of excitement in those dead yellow eyes.

"Excellent."

* * *

_Echo Note: The Dark Prince is a sneaky Gelert, isn't he? Kinda reminds me of someone..._

_The action's going to start up soon as they meet at the Trade in the next chapter. The next chapter also involves the Immortals, but it isn't consecrated to them._

_Please review._


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